


Drunk Dial

by GythaOgg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drunk Dean Winchester, Drunk Dialing, Drunken Confessions, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Slash, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GythaOgg/pseuds/GythaOgg
Summary: Cas is in Tibet doing research for a case. Dean is drunk. He calls Cas and thinks he hangs up. Spoiler: he does not, in fact, hang up. There are confessions.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 142





	Drunk Dial

Dean laid on his bed in the bunker, flipping through photos on his phone. Cas sitting on Baby’s hood, watching the sunrise after a werewolf hunt in Oklahoma. Cas & Sam, in their Fed suits, waiting for the Coroner to meet them at the morgue in Maine. A picture of that strawberry rhubarb pie at that diner in New Hampshire, with Cas sitting across the table, fork raised.

Before he realizes it, he’s tapping on Cas’s name in his contacts list. What is he doing? Fuck, he really shouldn’t have finished that bottle of whiskey. He always gets sappy when he gets drunk by himself. He should hang up. This is stupid, he's gonna hang up. But then, Cas answers, in his Very Concerned Voice.

**_“Dean?”_**

“Yeah, uhh, hey Cas.” Dean shuts his eyes, embarrassed. He should have hung up. 

**_“Dean, are you alright? It’s 2:43 in the morning. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”_**

“No, no, I’m fine, Cas. Sorry it’s so late. I just . . . uhhh . . . wanted to check in and umm, make sure you’re OK.”

**_“Everything is fine here, Dean. The monks took some convincing, but I won them over with stories about of the evolution of poetry among the Tibetan macaques. It turns out monks are very fond of monkey puns.”_**

“Huh. Ya learn something new every day, I guess.”

**_“Dean, are you sure you’re alright?”_**

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I’m good.”

**_“I’m nearly done transcribing the scrolls we need. I’ll be returning to the bunker tomorrow.”_**

“OK, yeah. Good, that’s good, Cas. I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow then. OK.”

**_“Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean.”_**

Dean pokes at his phone, eyes still closed, and drops it on his chest with a heavy sigh.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he snorts. “Good at coming up with bullshit reasons to call you, just so I can hear your voice. Shit, it’s only been three days. You’re a freakin’ angel, you don’t need my sorry ass checkin’ up on you.” Another sigh, then, quieter, “But it’s been three days.”

Dean scrubs one hand back and forth through his hair and opens his eyes, staring up at his ceiling.

“I shouldn’t have called. Just bein’ stupid. What did I think you were gonna say, anyway? ‘I miss you, I’ll be home soon’?” he grumbles, roughing up his voice in a bad imitation of Castiel. “He doesn’t think of this place as Home. Heaven’s his Home. And he don’t miss me. What’s there to miss? My colossal fuckups? My raging insecurity? All I ever do is give you shit, Cas, I know that, and I know you don’t deserve it. But if I don’t bitch and moan . . . if I'm honest . . . if I tell you I want you to stay, then I might fuck up and tell you WHY I want you to stay. That I want you here with me, right here, where I can see you, and hear you, and wake up next to you. That I always get myself hurt when you come on hunts with us, just so you’ll have to heal me, because that’s the only time you ever touch me these days. That I wish I was allowed to touch you.”

Dean’s voice trails off on the last few words, as he starts to doze off. He never even moves his phone, still lying face down, on his chest. 

In Tibet, Castiel sits very still, staring at the phone in his hand. “Dean?” he whispers.


End file.
